


Counteraction Rising

by Xavier_Rall



Category: Log Horizon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Culture Shock, Demihumans, Elves, Family Drama, Fantasy, Gen, Identity Issues, MMORPGs, Magic-Users, Magical Artifacts, Mystery, Politics, Realization, Religious Conflict
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:14:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8001535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xavier_Rall/pseuds/Xavier_Rall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over 900 people disappeared from Mooresville among the hundreds of thousands in the Elder Tales Event. Six months later, they return... as their in-game avatars. And so did everyone else. The town and the world must face a new reality, and settle their differences in order to live in this brave new world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Judgment Day

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Realocation](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/228301) by reality devant. 



> I do not own Log Horizon. Only this story and my original characters

Chapter 1: Judgment Day

**Mooresville, MI. Earth**

**Octavius POV**

After Octavius Abel Keys slapped the digital alarm clock on his nightstand into silence, he got up, went to the dining room, had a breakfast of Frosted Flakes, mumbled his morning greetings to his father before the man rushed out the door to work, cringed as his mother rubbed his hair _again_ (he knew that she knew that he hated it when she did that, almost as much as being called "Doc Ock" at school), walked back into his room and got dressed for school. Putting on his preferred fashion style, black and red hoodie over a t-shirt with black jeans and dark violet sneakers. After hauling his backpack, he went to walk out the door, and then noticed the calendar he had tacked to his billboard next to it. Or, more specifically, the date circled on it.

The calendar, by virtue of all the days crossed out the night that they ended, announced that the date was November 2, 2018.

A special note written in the box noted that it was now the six month anniversary of the "Kidnapping."

Six months from the day of May 2 of that year when, mysteriously, a grand total of over 500,000 people simultaneously vanished from the face of the Earth. Coincidentally, it was the exact same moment that the immensely popular 20-year running MMORPG, _Elder Tales_ , launched its twelfth expansion pack, "Novasphere of Pioneers", and then promptly crashed, bringing the game`s illustrious and rich history and game world to an ignominious end.

Six months since Octavius lost both of his elder siblings, Aaron and Emilia, to the event that many have come to identify by a plurality of names, such as the "Kidnapping", "Vanishing", "Rapture" (this fell out of favor fast), "Beaming Up" (mainly just the Trekkies), officially known as the "May Mass-Disappearance", but most commonly the " _Elder Tales_ Event", or just the "Event."

Octavius` tears had long since dried up, but he still bowed his head a little in acknowledgement. Although he looked up to his two older siblings, he wasn`t all that close to the two of them, as they both preferred to do their own thing together, a thing that either he wasn`t interested in or couldn`t be a part of. He remembered how they would play one game or another for hours on end at times, while he preferred to listen to his rock music while reading one of his many comics, from the universally-recognized "Batman" and "Spider-man" titles to the more obscure likes of "Midnighter". Although their sudden absence made him realize that he did indeed care for them, it wasn`t something he dwelled upon, although a professional psychologist or good people-reader would note his ever-darkening fashion-styles as a sign that their absence was having a bigger effect on him than he realized.

He then walked out his door, out of the front door to his house, to begin yet another monotonous day at school, from 8:30 AM to 3:30 PM. And it certainly was, by his standards. Except –

"No one said anything," Octavius murmured under his breath.

"Say what?" asked his friend, Kyle Pulaski, who was walking home with him after the bus dropped them off at the stop.

"No one said anything about the Event. It was six months ago, today. The teachers, the faculty, the other students, everyone`s parents, none of them said so much as a word about it. And not about them."

"Come on," Kyle said, placing his hand on his friend`s shoulder. He had lost his father to the Event, and his mother had remarried since then. "You know that it`s a painful topic, I mean, our town lost, what, over 900 people? And our town was a little below 15,000 people in all before it happened. That`s like," he looked up, doing some mental math, he had a good head for it. "One out of every fiteen people in Mooresville going 'poof' to God knows where. That means that, odds are, just about everyone in town has lost someone they knew, and that someone was friend or family. Most people just want to move on, and I think most people wait for yearly anniversaries to commemorate occasions."

"Yeah, you`re probably right, as usual."

"Besides, I didn`t tell you this earlier, but my step-dad yesterday succeeded in convincing the city council to fund and erect a memorial for all the town residents who disappeared in the Event, so as to coincide with the one-year anniversary."

"You mean," Octavius said in a low voice, as he stopped walking, Kyle beside him. "If they don`t come back first."

Kyle was silent for a moment. "Well, they were all just simply spirited away in the blink of an eye. And you know the conspiracies that have flown around. Alien abduction. The Apocalypse. You name it, someone`s theorized it. Hell, there are even cults springing up to steal people`s souls and money to feed off of all this. But, no one has a single shred of concrete evidence to explain what really happened."

"Yeah," Octavius muttered. Looking up, he saw his house down the street. There weren`t any cars parked out front, which meant that Dad had yet to come back from the office, and Mom was likely at that Bible Church again. She had joined it in the immediate aftermath of the Event. Octavius personally didn`t consider himself a part of any church, but Kyle`s Roman Catholicism was something he found interesting, with its grand ceremonies and pop culture mystery surrounding it, and his friend`s quiet and well-thought out reasoning for being a Catholic sounded very convincing, more so than his mother`s grief-driven "read-your-Bible" approach to theology.

"Well, I`ll see you later, `kay?"

"Sure

He wondered then, why he suddenly had started to think about faith and God of all things, on a day that was, for him, nothing but monotonous sorrow. Because, that`s all today was.

**River Arch, North Wen.** **_Elder Tales World_ **

**Iraza POV**

The sun`s morning light shone through the window, alerting Iraza, level 100 Human Sorcerer and Guildmaster of Inkblade, to the beginning of a new day. Groaning, he arose from his bed, walked down the stairs, had a breakfast of scrambled dragon egg and sausage, greeted all of the local junior members of the guild, from the young Elf monk, Robinn, to the recently-recruited Fox-Tail cleric, Justine, then walked back up the stairs to his bedroom, which also served as his private office, got dressed into his usual daily attire of long-sleeve dark shirt, rugged pants, dark brown boots, and his signature Midnight Aurora Coat, a black coat with shimmering rainbow seams. It was an item he cherished, as it was not only powerful, shortening cooldown times and strengthening his spells, but was the first major item he had earned as the Guildmaster of Inkblade, formed after the Apocalypse.

His guild, Inkblade, was created with the purpose of connecting the several different Adventurer cities scattered throughout North Wen, or the North American server of _Elder Tales_. Thanks to his encyclopedic knowledge of the Fairy Rings, he was able to travel to every major Adventurer city in North Wen and re-establish connections that he had with all of the Adventurers he knew before the Apocalypse, thus allowing him to, over the course of two years of traveling and talking, create a map of the politics of North Wen`s Divided States and the Adventurer cities. His guild, Inkblade, allowed all the Adventurers of North Wen to be able to establish communication, form relations, do business, and even band together in times of crisis. In fact, there was even talk going around the Adventurer cities to form a Union, not unlike the United States back home. It was all thanks to Inkblade, an organization comprised now of over 600 with members scattered across North Wen.

Here, in the guild`s headquarters in River Arch (stand-in for St. Louis), he oversaw everything that his guild members were working on, running an information network that ran from Big Apple (New York) to South Angels (Los Angeles). They even made successful attempts at contact with Adventurer cities overseas, most notably Londonheim (take a guess) and Leon City (Singapore). Thanks in large part to all of their efforts, all of North Wen was currently at peace, with the last major war with the world`s monsters having been resolved by the end of the second year, conflict with the People of the Land having been defused and resolved in the same time, and the last war between Adventurer cities ended just as the third year ended.

Hard to believe that six years ago, all of this was nothing but an online game.

As Iraza sat down at his desk, he couldn`t help but sigh at the thought. Six years was a long time. That kind of time is made even longer when it gets filled with transcontinental adventures, from leading parties through dungeons, navigating messy local and international politics, and leading one of the most active and far-flung guilds on the continent. Not to mention the twelve-to-one time dilation between the "real world" and _Elder Tales_ , which made six years here into six months "back home."

Then, there was a very enthusiastic knocking on his door, which sounded more akin to explosives than a fist banging on wood, thus oh so neatly interrupting his line of thought and reminding him of the other thing that made his life seem longer-

Young, rambunctious, _immortal_ , _superhuman_ , children.

"The door`s unlocked," Iraza said, exasperated. "And I would rather not force you to pay for a new one, _again_ , need I remind you, George."

"Sorry, master Guildmaster, sir," George said, opening the door much more gently than he was just treating it just a moment ago. He was a small boy of the Wolf Fangs, possibly ten years old in real life, but a Level 71 Guardian thanks to six years of experience and tutelage from senior Inkblade guild members. That meant the little boy, who was now six years older but still acting his real life age, had super-strength coupled with a still-innocent demeanor. Meaning that he has accidentally destroyed a grand total of 9 doors over the course of six years, three of them being Iraza`s door to his own room. Iraza was not eager to seeing the tally grow to ten with the addition of his fourth door.

"And how many times to I have to tell you, my name is Iraza, not 'master Guildmaster sir.' I mean, I`ve been telling you that for the past, oh I don`t know, four years?"

"Sorry, mas- I mean, Iraza. I`m just so excited, the Post-Apocalypse Festival has been going on for two days now, and since today is the day of the actual Apocalypse, that means the Parade is happening today!" Now George was acting even more excitedly, because what child did not enjoy a festival, which was essentially a giant party and a free ticket to go anywhere in town at all without supervision? "Besides, you`ve been stuck up here in your stuffy office all day for both of those days, doing nothing but boring paperwork. And before you say anything, it can wait! Come on outside with everyone and have a good time! After all, even _you_ need to party every now and again. Besides, Aldaza is here, and she wants to see her big brother."

Iraza`s eyes widened in surprise. Aldaza, last he heard, was adventuring with her guild, Living Fantasy, on the islands and reefs near the Beautiful Ocean Bridge (Overseas Highway US-1; Key West, FL). Then again, that information was old, and his sister never missed a Post-Apocalypse Festival in River Arch, which was where the two had decided they should meet every year, so as to never go a year without catching up. When she hadn`t shown up the past two days, he had begun to think she wasn`t coming.

But, since she was here-

"Alright, George, go on back down, and tell her I`m right behind you." George rushed off. Iraza stood up, grabbed his favorite fedora, made with black felt and a royal blue ribbon band, placed it on his head, grasped his Fallen Star Staff, and made his way out of his doorway, with its door still intact, and walked down the stairs and into the guild hall`s lobby, where his sister stood.

He couldn`t help but smile at the sight. Although his sister was now a Werecat, with emerald eyes, a much more lithe and athletic figure than in real life, and soft gray and black fur, the smile of quiet joy was very much the same as he remembered from before.

"Well, I must say, I might have to start worshipping you now, considering the only other person to raise himself back from the dead was Jesus."

And six years of inhumanity hadn`t done anything to dull her sense of humor either, though they may have sharpened it. Iraza smiled, because although he had changed a lot, she hadn`t at all.

"Well then, petty mortal, get down on your knees and beg your new god for his most generous mercy, and salvation may come to you, however slight the chances."

Aldaza laughed. "You still can`t make a good comeback to my jokes, can you? I rate that as a six."

"Oh, come on! That was at least an eight! Besides, what right do you have for rating people`s jokes, you are neither a professional comedian nor a critic."

"I don`t know about that. I participated in a stand-up comedy contest in Masquerade Delta (New Orleans) once, and I got third place overall. That officially gives me better comedic chops than you."

"You know, how can you prove what you just said is true? Also, considering everything that`s happened, how can you prove to me beyond a doubt anything you said is true? How can you prove anything that is happening to any of us is real? We could, after all, simply be existing in a _Matrix_ -style computer simulation, or it could all be just me, and I`ve simply dreamed up everything that`s happened to me over the course of my whole life. Or-"

"Stop it with the philosophical existential debating crap! You know how much I hate that!"

"Anything to get the final comeuppance."

Aldaza sighed, hand on face as she shook her head. "You still haven`t changed at all, have you?"

"Honestly, I think I`m very different than I was before, but hearing you say that is quite comforting."

Aldaza smiled once more, looking up. "Still don`t have a girlfriend, I bet."

Iraza simply shrugged. He was used to it after six years. "No. I have noticed a few who have harbored a crush over the years, but none of it was serious, or lasted that long. No boyfriend?"

Aldaza shook her head. "Nope, although I did have a brief crush on one of the People of the Land, before I learned he already had a special person in his life."

"Sorry to hear that. But, how about we continue this outside. I`m sure you still want vengeance for my victory last year in our go-round of Festival games."

"You bet!" she exclaimed, her thumb up.

And so, the two of them ran for the door, running out into the fresh, festive air, ready for anything the world had to throw at them.

**Mooresville, MI. Earth**

**Octavius POV**

He walked inside, and the very first thing he heard was a loud crash from upstairs. The next sounds were two loud pained groans of "Oooowww," and "Aaaahhh," followed by simultaneous cries of "What the hell?!" The very next moment, he had an impossible thought: he recognized those two voices, despite the fact that he hadn`t heard them in six months.

"Aaron?! Emilia?!" he shouted. "Was that you?!"

"Wait, is that you, Octavius?" "Doc Ock!" There was then the immediate sound of thumping as his long-lost siblings came rushing from the upstairs hallways to the stairs to see him at last. Just as he got to the stairs, he was immediately tackled in a bear hug.

"Ocky, it`s so good to see you again. It`s been ages since I`ve seen you. I just hope that I`m not dreaming, because this is just too good to be one."

"Need – air," he hacked out, as his sister was just about squeezing the life out of him.

"Oh-my-god I`m so sorry!" she yelped, releasing him. I guess I`ve forgotten how strong I am now."

As Octavius took a few moments to breathe again, he realized that although he could remember his sister being this energetic, he couldn`t quite remember her being this strong before…

When he looked up, what he saw was not his sister, Emilia. What he saw was a giant, bipedal, cosplay-dressed, sword-bearing, honest-to-God _cat._

"E-Em-Emilia? Is that- really you?"

She looked down at herself, and then realized what she was again. "Oh yeah, well-"

"Suffice to say, a lot has happened over the course of the last six years," said Aaron`s voice. But what Octavius saw was a tall, handsome young man with piercing violet eyes wearing a black coat with shimmering rainbow edges and patterns, a black, blue-banded fedora, and holding what looked like a tall, silver staff topped with a glittering, star-shaped sapphire.

"Aaron?"

"To give you the short answer, Octavius, yes, I am Aaron Nathaniel Keys, and the cat that just gave you a tackle worthy of the NFL is indeed Emilia. However, we`ve just spent the past six years inside the world of _Elder Tales_ living out life as our in-game avatars. My avatar`s name is Iraza. And hers is Aldaza."

This was a lot to process in a short amount of time. His sister was a superhuman cat, his brother looked like a cosplayer meld between a Prohibition-era mobster and a wizard, and his brother just said they had been for six years in a **video game?!**

_So that conspiracy theory`s true, out of all of them._ The idea of the game itself holding the players captive had been one of the more popular, albeit wilder and even more unbelievable theories, which qualified experts had regarded as less likely than even the likes of government conspiracy, alien abduction, and even divine intervention.

Octavius then realized something he said. "But wait, six years? Hasn`t-"

"Yes, due to _Elder Tales_ twelve-to-one time dilation, for you it`s only been six months, but six years passed for everyone sent to that world."

"Oh." Then, another thought. "Wait, everyone? If you`re here, then that means-"

At that very moment, his cell phone rang. Taking it out of pocket, he saw it was Kyle. Answering it, he said, "Hello?"

"DAD`S HOME!" Kyle blasted through the phone, making Octavius wince.

"Wait, what, quiet down a little. Did you just say what you think I said? Your dad`s back?"

"Yeah! Only, now he`s a freaking badass ax-wielder! He`s AWESOME! Hey, are your brother and sister back too?"

"Yeah…"

**Iraza POV**

He walked to the window, and saw the sun in the sky, as it continued on its way towards the horizon, to give way to the night.

They were home.

After six, long, exciting, tiring years. They were home once more.

But the means by which they had returned chilled him.

He had spent so much time just trying to help everyone keep all their marbles from spilling everywhere, he had completely forgotten at times about the real world, about Earth, and all the friends and family that had been left behind by the Apocalypse. Up to that very day, he had stopped altogether on trying to find a way home. In fact, he come to regard that world as his home, and did so for years. It was only when he was reminded of his first home that he came to dedicate thought to it.

But now that they were home, the implications of their return immediately dawned upon him:

Confusion over their disappearance, return, and newfound forms and powers.

Fear, envy, pride, hatred, bigotry produced by differences between the Adventurers and normal people.

Differences lead to division, lines will be drawn, agendas will collide, and the very foundations of Earth`s societies and cultures will be fundamentally challenged.

Thus, violence will inevitably erupt, and the first conditions for war have already been met.

All this he knew, for he had read of it in history, time and again for thousands of years. And he had seen it himself, over the course of six years in the world of _Elder Tales_.

And so, he knew fear for the future.

Then, the sight of the sun reminded him of a story a Japanese player had told him, when he met her after her arrival in River Arch from Yamato (Japan), via Fairy Ring. She said that there was a guild in Akihabara led by Shiroe of the legendary Debauchery Tea Party, who formed a guild known as Log Horizon. The name came from the guild`s spirit of adventure, to go forth towards the horizon, and write down in the logs of history their travels and feats. They who were instrumental in bringing to Yamato peace and prosperity.

He smiled. His Inkblade had done much the same for North Wen. They had seen a world ready to plunge into chaos, and they battled the chaos with a sword in one hand, and a pen in the other. They sought to use information to bring everyone together, and bring about peace to their world, but never shied away from using all necessary force to resolve crises that could not be dissuaded with just words. Inkblade at once answered to everyone and no one, subservient, but independent. And their efforts paid off with the building of a world that everyone could partake in and experience a joyful, adventurous, ever-satisfying existence.

Upon this musing, his face hardened into a great resolve. Seeing a perfect moment for dramatic words, he spoke:

"It seems to me we now live in a world now twice shaken. The first Apocalypse turned everything upside down, but we righted ourselves. Now we face yet another Brave New World, when the faith and resolve of all the peoples of Earth will be tested as unlike anything before. But, we of Inkblade have faced down the Apocalypse and refused to be broken by it. Now, Inkblade will rise again, this time to pass the test of Judgment Day."


	2. Beginning Confrontation

Chapter 2: Beginning Confrontation

**November 2, 2018**

**Mooresville, MI**

**Aldaza POV**

Night may have fallen fully on Mooresville, but for Aldaza, the Assassin Werecat warrior of the guild Living Fantasy, it was still as bright as day, in fact, it was even clearer for her, since her cat-eyes did not have to deal with any issues of bright sunlight messing them up. This made her travels around Mooresville that much easier, because now she could shed the large, baggy overcoat, thick ski goggles, unwanted but necessary boots and oversized gloves that all helped to hide her kitty exterior from undesired attention. Now, she jumped up to the roof of a house, looked at the map and list of addresses she was given, and proceeded to run and leap from rooftop to rooftop of the suburban houses as she made her way to her next destination.

The moment after she and Iraza at last reunited with their brother Octavius, Iraza immediately asked for any and all information pertaining to the people in Mooresville that had vanished in the Apocalypse, a term that Octavius found both amusing and appropriate. Still, Octavius was able to give him a surprising amount of information. His friend, Kyle, was a conspiracy theorist by hobby, so when the _Elder Tales_ Incident occurred, he succeeded in roping in around three dozen guys and gals in helping him map out who in town disappeared and where they disappeared from. In the end, they were able to compile a map of the town with all of the places the players vanished from marked, as well all of their home addresses, accompanied by a list of all their real names.

Then, lo and behold, whilst Iraza was beginning to come up with a plan to make the best of their situation, Kyle himself showed up at their front door, accompanied by his father, whose in-game avatar appeared to be an ax-wielding Guardian Elf with flowing green locks who stood head-and-shoulders above all of them, wearing blue Lord of the Rings-like armor with silver edges. As they all got reacquainted, the old Jefferson couple from next door arrived, desiring to know what was going on. They thankfully managed to survive the next few minutes of panic and freak-out at the sight of an elf, a sorcerer, and, last but not least, a Werecat without a literal heart attack, allowing them to calm down and greet them happily, having also missed them for six months. Thus, they enthusiastically volunteered to assist in Iraza`s plan to make contact with all the players in Mooresville, gather its most influential members for an important meeting the next day, and get their bearings in this situation.

They started with Kyle and Octavius reaching out to their friends for information and help, as well as the Jeffersons talking to their social acquaintances, with Iraza dividing up the neighborhoods between everyone to search through to make contact with the town`s large player population, with only normal people, or Adventurers who can pass off as normal, allowed to go out to make contact with the other players. Aldaza at first wasn`t permitted to go, but she succeeded in badgering Iraza to let her after she bundled herself up beyond recognition that she was human. Then she finally walked out the door back into the world that she had once called home.

Home. But not home.

After so much time away from it, returning back to the house and town that she had called home for as far back as she could remember, what with all the friends she made, adventures experienced, and exotic places traveled to, has now made it to number one on her list of "Top 10 Strangest Things to Ever Happen to Me" (she kept a notepad of them), outstripping even suddenly waking up in the world of _Elder Tales_.

The reason is that waking up in another, supposed-to-be-fictional world is beyond weird, and waking up in the body of your in-game avatar of said supposed-to-be-fictional world is weirder still. Still, weird things happening make the most sense when they happen in weird places, and when you figure out how the weird things happen, they stop being weird, as well as the places they happen in, resulting in what people call a "new normal." But, suddenly returning to the "old normal" while dragging along a major piece of the "new normal" creates an entirely different kind of weird where you now have weird things happening in an ordinary place that now appears weird. Weird things happening in ordinary places make everything all the weirder.

Thus, Aldaza reflected on how a rooftop-jumping, sword-wielding, anthropomorphic cat would most definitely not look out of place in _Elder Tales_ , from the dungeons and monster zones to the Adventurer cities and Lander towns. Here, in Mooresville, your standard (perhaps a little bigger than standard) American suburbia with a town center and a few main roads around which it was built, populated only by Humans without any other intelligent species to speak of, located in a world that has no magic and where the monsters are a lot smaller, weaker, fewer and farther between, such a thing was only appropriate in its works of fiction.

 _But now,_ she thought, as she made one final leap to the rooftop across the street from her next destination, _this ordinary world is going to be seeing a lot of unusual things from here on out._

Looking down at the list and its accompanying map, she double-checked to make sure the house across from her was the one and same that was on the list and map. It was, and the name of the player who lived here was named Anthony Daulk, causing Aldaza to groan. She then made yet another superhuman leap, this one across the street, to land on the house`s front porch.

From her pre-Apocalypse life as Emelia Keys, she recognized his name as belonging to that nerdy creep that she only ever met during her English class who always sent her cheesy love letters via paper airplane or stickered to her desk before she came into class. He was always there, behind her, making her uncomfortable with his horrible attempts at puppy-dog eyes from behind his huge, thick, square glasses and his occasional blown kisses. She didn`t even know what was up with the stupid kid, seeing as she was only moderately pretty at best by school standards with her oval bookworm glasses, small chest, average stature, and slightly rounded figure and face. She wondered what kind of avatar the "Dork" had.

_Maybe he`s a Guardian, with a very buff body and a giant sword in order to make himself more appealing to the ladies. Heh, maybe he went and became a lady? Ugh, that`d be SO gross. An elf, go the path of Orlando Bloom? Well, better knock and find out._

She held up her hand to knock on the door, but then again noticed the doorbell next to it and decided to make use of that. _Elder Tales_ had no doorbells, so had literally spent six years knocking on doors, and the ones that had doorbells made use of actual bells, with strings you pulled to ring them. She hadn`t pushed a doorbell in a very long time, and several houses she had already knocked on had doorbells she discovered after already knocking on said doors, in one case knocking hard enough to put a dent, which was particularly embarrassing. Right now, she just hoped that whoever answered the door wouldn`t scream and alert the whole neighborhood to what was going on.

Just as she was about to push it, she heard someone crying inside. It sounded like a little girl. Hesitating a moment, she then rang the doorbell, causing the weeping voice to hitch for a moment, and then bringing the sound of falling footsteps closer to the door, and the voice was clearly trying to keep it together, well, it was clear to her feline-enhanced hearing. Then, the door opened, revealing a small girl of around ten years of age, if Aldaza had her age right, with a braided ponytail of silky brown hanging over her right shoulder, big, round blue eyes with tears streaming forth like a waterfall, a bruised cheek, and her arms clutching a stuffed wolf. Or rather, her arms held the torn pieces of one. Aldaza had seen sadder sights from her years in _Elder Tales_ , but it still pierced her heart nonetheless.

And before she could think on the idea that the girl should be freaked at the sight of a giant cat with a sword, or react to the sight of the pitiful child, the girl ran up and wrapped herself around Aldaza, dropping her destroyed toy and burying her face in Aldaza`s clothing. At first surprised, Aldaza then simply put her arms around the girl, bending down and hugging her closely, letting the girl`s tears soak her shirt and fur.

"Ssssshhhh. There, there. I`ve got you," she comforted her. She detached the girl`s grip around her and held her out, looking her in the eye with a solemn smile. "Now, why don`t you tell this old pussy cat what your name is, that way we can talk like friends, `kay?"

The girl wiped her eyes, sobbed a little more, and then answered, "Sarah."

The cat nodded, "Pretty name, mine`s Aldaza."

Sarah gave a small smile in response. "Yours is nice, too."

"Thanks," Aldaza replied. "Now, I`m here looking for Anthony; he`s your big brother, right?"

Sarah teared up even more at the sound of that name. "You gotta help him! Me and my big sister Becky came home from school today, and Tony had finally come home! Well, we didn`t know it was Tony at first, cause he didn`t look like he did before he left, he had this cool red and white and gold armor on, a real sword, and cute little dog ears, but he talked and acted just like Tony, and he knew stuff about me only he could know. So he had to be Tony, right?"

"Yeah, it had to be, Sarah. That was probably Tony," Aldaza replied. _In fact, if I`m right, I may even recognize that Adventurer._ "Then, where`s Tony now?"

Sarah sniffled even more, trying desperately to hold back her tears. "Becky called Daddy, and he came back real fast, along with Mommy, but they yelled at Tony, calling him a devil and a demon, which made Tony mad, and he yelled back, I tried to stop them, and Daddy hit me, and he said bad things about Jesus hating him, he grabbed the gun and- and- h-he s-sh- **shot** him and took him away, to the scary church. He ripped up Fang too, because Tony had ears like him. Please, you gotta help Tony!"

Aldaza was hurt by Sarah`s story. She may not have liked Tony, but she had thought that she may well recognize his avatar, which meant she owed him an apology, and she still didn`t think that him in his "Dork" days deserved this.

Also, she wasn`t too shocked by the story. The Apocalypse had made around half a million people all over the world, give or take a few thousand, vanish simultaneously into thin air. According to what Octavius told her and Iraza, two of the most noticeable effects of this event on Earth were a sharp drop in the popularity of the gaming industry, particularly MMORPGs, and an even sharper rise in popular religion, with every manner of faith noting greater attendance numbers and conversions, as well as an upsurge of new cults and fundamental churches, some of them built expressly around the Apocalypse. Mooresville`s own local churches experienced this, Catholic, Lutheran, Presbyterian, Baptist, even the little mosque saw a membership boost, while a few new churches were also built to cater to lost souls, from Seventh-Day Adventists to Jehovah`s Witnesses.

He also noted that their own mother joined one of these churches, one that has gained notoriety for its preacher`s condemnation of the entire entertainment industry as "the work of Satan" in the aftermath of the Apocalypse.

Now, it appears that Anthony`s parents were members, too. And their reaction was not a good sign at all.

**Sylvia POV**

Everything went to hell when their celebration was interrupted. Until that, she was having a good day.

Well, as good a day as it could be when it was the six-month anniversary of the Event, when that goddamned _game_ stole away her children, leaving her with just her husband and youngest son, both of whom she knew were slipping away from her.

She, herself, had given her children up for dead within a week, grieving like the end of the world had come. And she wasn`t alone, as she met with other mothers and fathers and children who had lost their families and friends to the same Event. In time, she met Pastor Wheatley, who had set up shop in the recently renovated former First Baptist Church of Mooresville, which he renamed the Church of the Word of God in Mooresville. He helped her learn how to read her Bible, find Jesus, establish a prayerful relationship with Him and find peace and comfort for her loss.

It was because of the Event that she had joined this church, and it was because she had joined that she came today to join in the church`s solemn six-month commemoration of the Event. Everyone took turns sharing how God had intervened in their lives since the Event. They sang His praises, loud enough to shake the heavens, damned the Devil deeper than Hell, praised God even more, prayed fervently, and then Wheatley walked to the podium, raised his hands, and all were silent. Lowering his hands, he spoke:

"My dear brothers and sisters, I thank you all for coming together in this House of God on this solemn day. One half of one year, six months to the day have passed since that day, since that wretched day, when Satan, in his ever-burning hatred for God and evil scheming against His plan for mankind, stole away from us our friends and our family; mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, grandmothers, grandfathers, brothers, sisters, cousins, nieces, husbands, wives, nephews, sons, daughters, great nieces and nephews and granddaughters and grandsons." These words touched every soul in the audience, Sylvia included, and she remembered how the elderly Wheatley pastor lost several friends and family to the Event, most notably one his own grandchildren.

"And how did Satan steal them away? He tempted them to take part in the devilish world of _Elder Tales_ , a mockery of God`s Creation, where the world was half its size, and stuffed to the rim with the monsters and temptations born from the mind of the Devil! And what`s worse, it encouraged its players to use unholy magics, and take up shapes and forms that God did not intend. He tempted them into taking part in his little playground where he laid his sinister trap, so that, when he decided the time was right, to spring his trap, and use that evil game, to steal them away to Hell!

"But Satan has made a mistake! He has tipped his hand too early! We know his plan of attack, how he intends to steal us away! He has planned to bring mankind into a state of apathy, distract mankind from the glory and wisdom of God! Just as Jesus taught in the parable of the ten brides and their oil lamps, five were foolish, and wasted the light of their lamps on frivolity, trivialities, and soon had none left, while the five who were wise waited, and lit their lamps when the time was right, when they met their grooms. Satan seeks for us to waste our time and effort on wasteful earthly ventures, for this world is nothing compared to the eternal happiness and glory of God! We-"

BAM! That was the sound of the church doors bursting open. Every member of the congregation and even the minister was too weak to resist the temptation to turn towards the source of the sound and discover the reason for the disturbance. Sylvia herself was one of the first to react.

She saw James and Gabriella Daulk walk in through the doors, the man in front, the wife behind, and she saw him dragging on the ground a person, who was wearing a strange, authentic-looking armor that looked like it taken a few shots with a rifle, considering Mr. Daulk was carrying his with him. The wife appeared to holding a long, sheathed, gilded, curved sword in her arms, one that appeared to be close to half as high as she was. Two things above all else drew her eyes:

The person`s wolf ears and tail.

She gasped. All of the congregation member were whispering now, wondering what this portent meant.

"Who is that?"

"What is that? Is it really human?"

"A werewolf, perhaps?"

"Could it be something from _Elder Tales_?"

"Or some _one_?"

As her eyes continued to look, transfixed by the sight, she noticed Wheatley come down from the podium to meet the Daulks and their guest. Silence fell again.

"James, Gabriella," the pastor said. "What on earth is this abomination that you have brought into this House of God?"

"Father," replied James, "This creature claims to be my son, your grandson, Anthony, who was lost to us through the _Elder Tales_ Incident."

All gasped loudly at that. Wheatley himself was no less shocked. He looked down upon the wolf-eared and tailed man with a look of profound confusion and grief. Then, Sylvia watched with horror, as she watched the elderly man`s face morph from baffled sorrow to outright rage. He lifted his head and shook his fist, and then vented his anger in an uproarious voice:

"It wasn`t enough Satan? That you would steal away and damn our family and friends? You had to send them back into this world to corrupt and destroy us along with them? I tell you now! You will not tempt me Satan! Damn you Hell where you belong! Burn there for all eternity and leave us be! Do not tempt me with my own family! I will not bend or break! GOD WILL SAVE US! God calls on us now, children! We must not be swayed by the Devil`s lies! He has tormented us for six months with the loss of our families and friends, and now he seeks to destroy by giving us a false, twisted fragment of them! I warn you now, my brothers and sisters, when you go home this night, do not be swayed, be cautious, for they now walk our streets, dwell in our homes, and defile our world with their presence!"

"In that case, I would like to express my most heartfelt apology for defiling your church with my presence, but I have a small favor to ask of you."

The pastor was silenced, but none had become quieter than Sylvia. She knew that voice, better than anyone else. She turned towards the doors of the church once more, hoping to see a sight that hadn`t graced her eyes in too long. Instead, she saw a tall figure in a fedora, rainbow-edged coat, and dark clothing, holding a sapphire-topped silver staff, wearing an unrecognizable face, with violet-colored eyes that, alone of the entire figure, appeared familiar in Sylvia`s mind. For they possessed the same spark of wit and intelligence that she loved to see in her son`s eyes. He spoke again.

"That young man right there has a younger sister back home who needs consoling, and I think it would do her good to see him again."

Her heart shattered, because all this was just like him…

"Aaron," she whispered.

**Iraza POV**

"That young man right there has a younger sister back home who needs consoling, and I think it would do her good to see him again," Iraza said.

While he was going around with the Jeffersons, contacting the various returned Adventurers, Mrs. Jefferson received a call on her cell from Aldaza, who, after Mrs. Jefferson passed the phone on to Iraza, immediately informed him of the situation regarding Anthony Daulk. He immediately passed it on to Mr. Jefferson, who then moved with all legal speed towards the Bible Church, immediately depositing Iraza right across the street from it upon arrival.

Looking into that room, Iraza saw more than a few familiar faces in the crowd, and he knew that there were more than a few people in that crowd that recognized his voice, which belonged to the boy known as Aaron Nathaniel Keys. However, just about everyone in that congregation was staring bug-eyed at him like he was an alien, a monster, or-

"Demon." That worked too, and it was uttered by the church`s pastor himself, who was currently glaring bloody daggers at him.

"Human, actually," Iraza replied. "Although, to clarify, more than a mere human, seeing as I am a Level 100 Sorcerer and Tracker Adventurer of _Elder Tales_."

"You`re still associated with Satan nonetheless. You wield his magic and power."

"Is that so? Perhaps I need to delay my retrieval in order to renew my blood-written contract with the Devil because I don`t quite remember signing it. Come to think of it, maybe that`s what the dotted line was for."

"OUT!" The pastor was getting worse. "Go back from whence you came, evil spirit, and leave both this house of God and us forever."

"Do you mean _Elder Tales_ where I spent six years of my life or my mother`s womb where I was conceived and was born into this world from? `Cause, frankly, I`m at a loss at how to get back to either of those locales. The problem with the first being I still don`t know how the hell we all got there in the first place and the second being, well, the fact I`ve gotten a little bit too big to fit back in there. You can see the conundrum I`m facing right now, because I am physically unable to comply with your request, good sir."

One or two people snickered at his response. "Don`t encourage him!" the pastor yelled. No more snickering.

"On the other hand, pastor," Iraza raised his hand and pointed at him, "you are perfectly able to comply with mine. So, could we avoid any sort of bloody confrontation and you can just allow me to pick up my little friend here and bring him back to his home?"

"NEVER!" shouted Mr. Daulk, raising up his rifle to bring to bear on Iraza`s head. Iraza lowered his hand, as James continued bellowing, tears showing in his eyes. "My son is dead! This thing that has his voice and holds his memories is not him! Satan stole him and dragged him off to Hell for all eternity with his trap! With that damned game!"

"Are you certain that`s what happened?" He opened his arms, slowly striding forward. The jewel on his staff appeared to be glittering more brightly than usual. "Upon what basis do you verify this claim? What witness? What divine revelation? What proof have you to support your argument? When the Pharisees arrested Jesus, they couldn`t prosecute him on the statements of the false witnesses, because they all gave conflicting and differing accounts of Jesus` so-called evils, and it was only when Jesus effectively declared himself the Son of God in their court could they condemn him for blasphemy. The only things your witnesses can agree on is that everyone simply vanished in the blink of an eye six months ago, and that people have appeared now who share their voices and memories. Where does Satan and damnation come into the picture?"

James Daulk began frothing at the mouth, and his rifle began vibrating. He opened his mouth to respond, but a hand came to rest on his arm. He looked to see Pastor Wheatley slowly shaking his head. James lowered his gun and Wheatley stepped forward. Iraza ceased striding, lowering his arms and planting his staff firmly by his side. Wheatley spoke.

"When is the Devil not in the picture? He`s always there, whispering, tempting, enticing, causing men to doubt God, others, themselves, twisting words and deceiving our eyes. The Devil is the reason man fell into sin! He is the reason we continue to sin! That is why we must listen to God and resist the Devil in all his hated works!"

"That`s an awfully convenient doctrine, don`t you think?" Iraza replied.

Wheatley was confused by this response. "What do you mean by convenient?"

Iraza chuckled, sending more than a few chills down people`s spines. "I mean, it`s quite convenient that your theology revolves more around the Devil than it does God. It allows you to avoid taking responsibility for your mistakes. I mean, saying 'the Devil made me do it' is nothing less than the most pathetic excuse a person can make. I mean, if everything really was the Devil`s fault, God would never have punished man in the first place. For that matter, if everything that messed up in our lives really was his fault, than what would that make of us? We`d be nothing more than toy dolls, existing without any true sense of self-importance. We wouldn`t even have the right to call ourselves human. You talk so much about resisting the Devil, even hating him and his works, that you have even forgotten the true purpose of Christianity altogether?"

Wheatley guffawed at this. "Who are you to criticize my faith? Who are you to blaspheme against God? Who are you to know God`s will?"

Iraza simply smiled. "A Bible verse comes to mind, known as 1 John 4:16: 'God is Love, and he who abides in Love, abides in God, and God in him.' I criticize your teachings, not your faith, because you incorporate hate into your words, and not once have I insulted God or presumed to know more about Him than anyone else can otherwise discern themselves. Now, as much as I enjoy our philosophical/theological debate, I really need to be going, and I`ll be taking him with me." He walked past the flabbergasted pastor and the Daulks, bending down, lowering his arms and lifting back up the wolf-eared young man, who stirred in his unconsciousness. Turning back toward the door, he saw that the gun was once more leveled at him.

James was stammering, "I- I cannot-"

"Afraid of the possibility of losing your son a second time?" Iraza said. James quieted down. "Afraid of loving him, and discovering later that he wasn`t what you believed him to be? I think Shakespeare once said that it`s better to have loved and been hurt, than to have never loved at all. So, when you go home tonight, do try to at least give him the benefit of the doubt." He walked on, and no one else in that crowd dared do anything. He walked out the doors, across the street, and right to the Jeffersons` car. Aldaza was also there.

"Well, Aldaza, I believe you know who this is, correct?" Iraza asked.

She nodded. "Yep. My old guild-mate, Lycor. Can`t believe he was the 'Dork' this whole time."

"There are still many surprises left in store for us, sister." He turned his head back towards the Bible Church. "Some of them will be quite pleasant, like this irony-infused reunion between friends, and others will be rather uncomfortable, like that confrontation with the misguided faithful. Things are going to get really weird now."

Aldaza snorted. "Don`t make us laugh. Everybody already knows that everything`s gone Wonderland. We don`t need you to say it all again, like you do with every situation."

"You know me. I`m always trying to get the final comeuppance."


	3. Difference Reconciliation

Chapter 3: Difference Reconciliation

**November 3, 2018**

**Mooresville, MI**

**Octavius POV**

_This,_ Octavius thought to himself, _is **not** where I had been hoping to spend my Saturday. _

The average American teenager has never really held school to a very high standard, either in academic or favorability terms. The only reasons they would generally enjoy school is rarely ever the homework – almost always, it`s the sports and the friends.

And, if you were a guy, the girls. For every young man, there is rarely a greater concentration of such eye candy to be found anywhere else on a regular basis. No matter the reason, the sight of an abundance of young, pretty girls coming into their own always serves as great stress relief from a grindingly dull day of monotonous schoolwork and lectures.

Still, despite the fact that there were indeed a fair numbers of pretty girls, and women, mingled with the crowd of guys his eyes beheld, not even they would normally be motivation for any self-respecting male juvenile delinquent (to-be?) to break his weekly routine of visiting the usual hangouts with his friends, doing everything from reading comics and watching B-movies to playing games of both the trading card and video varieties. School was a no-go zone on the weekend, with the only exceptions being sports games and special school events, like a dance or graduation day.

 _Then again, seeing an entire gathering of living video game characters impersonated by their players would definitely count as a special event in anyone`s book,_ Octavius pondered, with a slight smirk in his mouth. _Especially one orchestrated by your own brother._

Indeed, a large part of the crowd before him was made up of Adventurers, the players of Elder Tales who had disappeared in the Event, who had now inexplicably returned home in the avatars of their Elder Tales personas. There were also a fair number of “normals” in the crowd, most of them being either friends or family of some of the Adventurers who had returned. Their mingling together, with their myriad conversations, shouting between loved ones finding each other, and the occasional Adventurer showing off some spell or skill, like one Summoner had with his Undine familiar, who was dressed in the ever-familiar sailor-school uniform.

And it was his brother, Aaron, a.k.a. Iraza, who had arranged the whole gathering, working almost from the moment of their return to make contact with all of the returned Adventurers using the information that he, Kyle, and their friends from school had gathered when the Event had occurred, with help from Aldaza, once Emilia, himself, and several other friends. Also, thanks to Kyle`s stepdad being on the town council, they were able to get a direct line to the mayor for the political backing to make the arrangements for the gathering, the police chief to provide security, and the school principal for the last-minute permission to hold it in the high school football field.

Now, here he stood, in the bleachers of the home field of the Mooresville Pioneers, where all 903 Adventurers who had lived in this town at the time of the Event, the Apocalypse as the Adventurers referred, were now gathered. The Adventurers were all grouped by guild, each of them signified by a flag with their guild crest, and the families they had in this world were all gathered with them, while solo players and those who were their guild`s sole representatives, were grouped by where they lived in town. Of course, with the sheer number of people present, their numbers had spilled into the bleachers and even outside the field entirely.

“This. Is. So. Cool. Wouldn`t you agree?” said a voice behind Octavian.

Turning around, Octavian saw a boy, standing at just below chest-height, wearing heavy orange armor with black highlights, with a shield and sword strapped to his back, bearing a rounded face with unnatural emerald green eyes, and dog ears on his head and a tail from behind. In Octavian`s eyes, the kid looked like a tween, twelve at the oldest.

“Yeah,” Octavian replied. “In the summer before last, my family went to St. Louis so that I and my siblings could attend the Comic-Con happening there. Just about everyone there was wearing cosplay of one sort or another, from Batman and Spider-man to Goku and Cloud. This all kinda reminds me of that, except it`s a lot more, you know, real.”

“Lots more real,” the boy replied. “Oh, by the way, my name`s George. That`s both my handle and my real name.”

“Octavian,” he said. “I`ve got no handle.”

“Figured as much,” George said, a melon-swallowing smile on his face. “So, why`re you hanging around the grouping placement for Inkblade? You got family who`s a member?”

“Yeah, my brother, Aaron, though he`s also told me his handle is Iraza.”

George froze. His eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Y-yo-you mean- you`re the Guildmaster`s brother!?!”

“Yep,” Octavian said, with a slight hint of pride. “I and my friends actually helped him put this little meeting together.”

“WOW!” George shouted. He was on the verge of jumping up and down in his excitement, with his entire body shaking at the frequency of a tuning fork. “He never talked about what life was like for him in the rea- back home. The only thing about him from this world that we knew for sure was that Aldaza from Living Fantasy was his real sister. So tell me, what it like was to have the Guildmaster for a big brother?!”

“Nothing as fantastic as having him for a Guildmaster in Elder Tales, I can tell you that,” Octavian said with a slight sigh, bowing his head a little. He then looked up at the banner that had been made for Inkblade. Its crest had a stark white background with a red crown in the middle with a black feather pen crossing with a black sword through its center, symbolizing the guild`s quest for power through knowledge and strength. He remembered that Aaron loved to say “knowledge is power.” In _Elder Tales_ , where he also had strength, Octavian thought that the crest was very much like what Aaron would think.

“Aaron wasn`t the best big brother of all time, but he wasn`t the worst either. My main area of interest was my comic books, his were online games. We both enjoyed classic action movies, though, like _Die Hard_ and _Dirty Harry_. We both had a couple o` friends, but we weren`t very popular at school. He was probably in school`s top five percent grade-wise, and I was certainly above-average, but not as smart as him. At home, we didn`t really fight all that much, but that`s because we didn`t really talk all that much. Sometimes we`d read or play together, but not much. If we did talk, it was usually about school, our friends, our hobbies, or whatever. I can`t say we had much of a brotherly bond during those days, and he spent way more time playing Elder Tales than he did talking to me.

“Still, when the Event happened, what you call the Apocalypse, I suddenly began to notice more and more how much he wasn`t there. When he wasn`t in the kitchen eating a banana or apple when I got back from school, since he always came home first. When there wasn`t someone at the dinner table who understood my comic book references. When I had an epic fail of a school day and there wasn`t an older brother to lean on to help me get back on my feet.

“He wasn`t the best big brother ever, but he was mine, and he was there when I needed him most.”

**George POV**

George watched and listened with rapt attention, thinking back on what life was like before meeting Iraza. He only had jumped into the game to be able to join his older cousin in playing the game. By the time he had successfully set up his account and game avatar, the Apocalypse occurred, dragging him into _Elder Tales_ headfirst without a tutorial, a weapon, a friend, or a single idea about what to do. Being only a twelve-year-old who hadn`t experienced much harshness in life, arriving in a strange new land, surrounded by strange people and smells, and realizing he wasn`t even in his own body caused him to completely break down and weep.

He didn`t like to think what might have happened to him had Iraza and his sister, Aldaza, hadn`t showed up that day, not only giving him a shoulder to cry on but a place to stay for the night with *cough* questionable *cough* food and drink and a warm bed. Although Aldaza moved on with her guild, Living Fantasy, he stayed with Iraza and his startup guild, Inkblade. Thanks to Iraza`s intellectual tutoring and the practical training he received from various Inkblade members, mostly the Dwarf Guardian Alexander von Clausewitz (no joke), he eventually came to hold his own in dungeon raids and PvP events. This took some time, however, as he also took time to work in Inkblade learning how to gather the information that the guild thrived on, from simple tasks like package drops eventually more complicated jobs like hiring informants. Although he only made Lvl. 71 by this point, he had also become a competent information-networker, though not in the same league as Iraza and his top aides. Still, he saw it as time well spent, and he wouldn`t have traded his time in Inkblade for anything.

As for Iraza himself, all the time spent with him showed that the guy rarely showed his real self to anyone. Outwardly, the guy could appear to be a ruthlessly cold-hearted bastard one minute and a wannabe-comedian with a flair for philosophical conversation. He had an entire metaphorical closet of masks to wear for every occasion, like a true dramatic. The only times he ever saw the Guildmaster completely without one his masks was when he was in private, with either his sister Aldaza or one of his closest friends or confidantes, reminiscing over life back home or dealing with a particularly stressful crisis, like the first wars with other Adventurer cities. During these times, it was then that George was reminded that Iraza himself was only a persona for some high school kid who got in over his head when the Apocalypse happened.

The last time he had seen that high school boy was over three years ago.

“I remember one time, in the first year of the game,” George said. “Word had gotten around that the price of the Adventurers` immortality granted by resurrection in the cathedral`s was one`s memories in the real world. Some people shrugged it off, while others became utterly terrified at the idea of forgetting about the real world entirely. As for me, I had shrunk back into my old scared self from the day of the Apocalypse. I burst into Iraza`s office nearly crying like a baby after hearing about that. I buried my face in his chest, and he hugged me back, and then he whispered in my ear. And I remember exactly what he said.

“‘When you die one time, you only forget one of the little things; in my case, the name of the goldfish I had when I was little. That was the first of three deaths I`ve gone through, and all of them little things, that I could live without. All of the memories I do cherish, of the people I love and the time spent with them in the places I love, I still have them, and since I plan to stop dying, I am not afraid of forgetting the real world. However, in this fantasy world, I have been forced to leave behind the face, form, and name with which I was born and with which I made those wonderful memories. I have been forced to take a role that I played for fun and live it day in and day out, take a mere screen handle and make it my name, and then, in a fit of self-righteousness, take upon myself the tremendous burden of trying to make a better world for everyone and rudely involving myself in everyone else`s business, tangling myself in my Gordian knot of a web to the point of being unable to leave it if I even wanted to. All of this has forced me to change how I speak to and act around other people, how I think and feel about myself and everything and everyone around me. The person I have made myself become is slowly and surely pushing out my old self.

“‘I don`t fear forgetting the real world. I fear forgetting the real me.’”

“That was the most intimate I have seen Iraza be. Ever since, I have only ever seen a hint or peek of the guy that you call Aaron. I don`t know how much of him is Iraza and how much of Aaron is left. To be honest, I don`t even know if there is anything left of Aaron.”

Octavian sighed in response. “Yeah, I get what you mean. When he got back, I didn`t recognize him at first not only because he looked different, but because he acted totally differently than how I knew him. It was only after hearing his voice and a small, dramatic speech he gave just to me and my sister that I was firmly convinced that it was him. Then, he immediately began demanding access to all the information I had, and that of my friends when he learned about how they knew things. He got a map of the town and began issuing orders to everyone like it was second nature, using us to run around town while he kept everyone coordinated and in contact via social media. There were a couple of difficult incidents, like one Adventurer that came home to a new family having moved into the house where she lived before, another who tangled with cat burglars and got a personal meet-and-greet with the police, and one who got dragged off by his parents because they thought he was a demon.”

“Heard about that one,” George said. He had heard about how Iraza engaged in a battle of words with the local firebrand preacher and managed to smooth-talk both himself and Lycor, one of Aldaza`s guildmates, out of the church in one piece. “Thank goodness none of the other churches in the area have reacted as badly, and that nothing major has gone down with the police. Otherwise the whole town would be up in arms.”

“Yep. My brother has certainly become something else, hasn`t he?”

George sighed. “Yes, he has.”

There was suddenly a screech in the air, paining George`s ears as he wondered for a moment what it was, before realizing that it was the old, familiar sound of a microphone being turned on, complete with feedback. He turned to the raised platform that had been set up in touchdown zone, where it appeared the sound team had finished setting up the speakers. There was a podium in the center, and a man walked up to it. Everyone in the crowd had fallen silent, and all eyes were on him.

While the vast majority of the crowd likely didn`t recognize him, George certainly did.

 _Well,_ he thought to himself, _it is a shame that Aaron lost himself to Iraza, but I still admire him nonetheless. Besides, it`s always a treat to watch him give one of his signature speeches. The guy is at his very best when working behind the scenes, but he`s still a master of the limelight when the time calls for it, like now._

“Greetings, one and all, to the people of Mooresville,” Iraza`s voice echoed through the field and stands. “I was born Aaron Nathaniel Keys. You may now also know me as Iraza, Level 100 Human Sorcerer and Tracker as well as Guildmaster of Inkblade.”

_Showtime._

**Iraza POV**

“Yesterday, on November 2, 2018, at precisely 4:00 PM, Central Time, all 918 Adventurers of Mooresville simultaneously and suddenly reappeared in the exact locations from which we had disappeared on May 2, 2018 in the event that this world has come to call the May Mass-Disappearance and what we have named the Apocalypse. For those who have yet to realize it, due to the mechanics of _Elder Tales_ , six months passed in this world, while six years went by in that one.”

A slight pause, as he allowed the audience to come to grips with the time differential.

“We Adventurers, as we came to be known by in that world, have undergone great change in the time spent away from this world. Physical changes include, as you have seen, new faces and bodies, increased physical strength and capability, in some cases, the ability to use genuine magic, and even the ability to use skills we weren`t capable of before, such as Kevin over there,” pointing to an orange Werecat Bard with a violin, “who could barely toast bread if his life depended on it before the Apocalypse, but now could make a ten-course gourmet buffet with the best of them.

“But, a much more profound change has occurred from the six years we were away. If those of you who remained here look around, what you see are people who have traveled through fantastic lands, explored dangerous regions, battled powerful monsters, and even gone to war. We have built businesses and economies, organizations and institutions, and even governments. We have made for ourselves new friends and families and even carved out homes for ourselves in that world.

“On top of that, many of us, at one point or another, have died at least once in that world.”

Silence. This reaction was expected.

“In that world, just as in the game, our avatars were immortal, not just by virtue of being unaging, but also that, each time an Adventurer is killed, they are soon thereafter resurrected in the cathedral of the last Adventurer city they had visited. This resurrection came at the dual price of losing a piece of one`s memories, and coming face-to-face with the uncomfortable truth about oneself.

“So, while each of us remains physically whole from this experience, each of us has returned from our time in _Elder Tales_ as a very different person than we were when we first arrived, making us all the stranger to you who remained, in body, mind, and manner.”

There was faint murmuring in the crowd among the normals and Adventurers, and he could see people whispering to one another rather worriedly.

“And so, I come to the reason that I have called all of you here today.”

People quieted down, and refocused their attention.

“This nation is a land of many different peoples, cultures, and ideas, and it has seen time and again what can happen if we let those differences divide us. In the last century, those differences were most vocally and clearly made in the times of Jim Crow laws, Japanese internment camps, the counterculture and race riots of the sixties, and, more recently, the waves of Islamophobia that swept the country. Stereotypes were made, fears and hatreds were stoked, and innocent people were persecuted because of uncontrollable circumstances and unconnected relation. And more than a century and a half before, our nation let our differences divide us so much that we went to war with our fellow countrymen, friends, and even family.

“However, we have also seen what happens when we put these differences aside or even use them to our advantage. Our nation fought both World Wars with the intent of destroying tyranny, and while the aftermath of those conflicts was messy, we won those wars because our nation fought as one. Our nation stared down the Soviet Union in Cold War, and proved our ideals of democracy founded on God-given liberty to be stronger than the hopelessly utopian and overly oppressive philosophy of communism as we watched the Evil Empire crumble from the inside out. The civil rights movement helped our nation to fully realize the wrongs it had committed on entire peoples, and set it on the path to bringing justice to those it had been denied for so long.”

People were nodding heads and standing up. There was a low murmur of agreement with his sentiments in the crowd. He smiled to himself, vindicated that his outreach to the audience`s sense of patriotism and religious devotion was having the effect he desired. He expected as much from his hometown, which was located along the northern periphery of the Bible Belt but within it nonetheless.

“Much indeed has changed in the time that passed, no matter how much of it any one of us experienced. But still, there are these inescapable facts that we must all remember above all else in the days ahead. No matter what has happened to any of us, we are all still neighbors, friends, and family. This is our town, and it is our home. We are going to have problems and trouble in the future from the issues that will arise from how we have all changed while separated from one another. There will be argument, debate, protest, and even fighting in the future. There will be people that, no matter what, will never be appeased by whatever the world does to make sense of our new situation.”

The response continued to be as he had hoped it would be, as the murmuring turned into open agreement and reaffirmation of what he`d said.

“We must remember that, in the end, we are all just people; that we are weak, broken, imperfect creatures, and no matter how much we try, we can never make a perfect world that perfectly fits and caters to our ideas of what the world ought to be. But, we must always remember that, only by working out our differences together, by standing together in the face of crisis and disaster as one, are we truly able to build for ourselves a better world. A Guardian is a strong warrior in the vanguard, but he is easily swept aside without a healer to keep him in one piece. An architect is capable of envisioning the visage of an entire skyscraper, but without the electricians, mechanics, engineers, and construction workers to actually build it, all he has is a wonderful dream.”

Their reactions continued to grow stronger as he continued. His voice grew louder as he spoke, building to a crescendo.

“We have all, in one way or another, been affected by the Disappearance. And now, we all are facing new, trying times ahead. Six years ago to the Adventurers was the Apocalypse. Yesterday was Judgment Day. Now is the Time of Reckoning. Like it or not, the world is about to change, and in a major way. The question therefore, is what kind of world we will make. And there is only way we can make it as great a world as possible: together.”

They began to cheer, getting whipped into a frenzy as his words continued to resonate within them. They were ready for the final stroke. Iraza reached out his hand, spreading his open fingers in a beckoning gesture, while raising his Fallen Star Staff in his other towards the rising sun behind him. Then he shouted.

“So I ask you, who shall help to build a better tomorrow? WHO?”

“I WILL!”

“ME!”

“WE SHALL!”

All of these exclamations of commitment and more were shouted all at once, and would`ve been enough to make the average high school student stumble back from the sheer force and volume of the cries. But Iraza simply stood taller than before, with a triumphant smile on his face. With a glittering jewel in his Staff, and a flutter in his Coat, he dramatically threw open his arms and yelled in his loudest voice, carried by the soft wind,

“Alright then! My neighbors, friends, and family, all people of Mooresville and even those beyond who hear this cry, the time has come, for the world to be reborn! AND WE ARE THE ONES WHO WILL MAKE IT HAPPEN!”


	4. Coming Noise

Chapter Four: Coming Noise

November 4, 2018

New York City, NY

Mazer POV

A getaway vehicle is always a rather unusual sight in New York, considering its constant traffic trouble. That same vehicle being a truck would make for an even rarer sight to behold. But that same truck being pursued by what looked like a police officer shouting “PULL OVER!” bearing black fox ears and tail with giant silver gauntlet on his arms would convince a normal bystander that he was either hallucinating or had fallen into a parallel universe. Or it would, if the Adventurers of Elder Tales hadn’t returned just two days earlier.

This is not how I imagined getting back on the force would look like, Mazer, a Level 82 Foxtail Monk thought sullenly, as he leaped from car roof to car roof in pursuit of mobsters getting away with a truck full of stolen evidence from a federal warehouse.

Cars careening through the streets at high speeds, dodging pedestrians and incoming traffic, while frantically turning corners and blitzing ahead so as to catch a break, or catch their prey. The sounds of cracking gunfire being exchanged, of screeching tires burning rubber, and wailing police sirens filling the air. A contest of speed, skill, and equipment between two or more drivers and their allies.

For Corporal Brandon Daniels of the New York Police Department, this was the iconic Hollywood image of a car chase. He had been in one car chase before in his career, but it was a short affair that almost lasted three blocks and saw his suspect get T-boned by a bus. And he wasn`t even the guy driving at the time, since it was his partner`s day for the wheel.

On top of the duty of protecting the people of New York and paying the bills, Officer Daniels had joined the NYPD for its potential thrills. He had grown up on cop movies, from the dead-serious “Dirty Harry” franchise and “Heat” to the more comedic likes of “Beverly Hills Cop” and “Lethal Weapon.” He wanted to get into a shootout with the street gangs, the Mafia, and the Mob all at once. He wanted to go undercover and bust the biggest drug ring that eyes had never been laid on. He wanted be in the driver`s seat for a police car chase for criminals who had robbed the American Museum of Natural History of the biggest diamond on Earth.

When he had been very suddenly dropped into the world of Elder Tales, he was quick to cast aside any and all fantasies he had for doing Hollywood-esque police business of any sort. Immediately, he sought out to join a guild that had a good sense of security and camaraderie. This resulted in him bouncing around the city of Big Apple, “browsing” a number of different guilds in order to find one he could be comfortable with. In the end, he decided to join a guild known as Street Smarts, a group of native New Yorkers who helped to bring order back to the city after an attempted monopolization of tasteful food preparation resulted in citywide riots.*

The six years that made up his time in Elder Tales were filled with fantastic adventures that made his time in the NYPD look gray and lifeless. Then, the exciting days were few and far between, as well as being far less whelming than his daydreams. Those days had been largely occupied by patrols for illegal parking and mind-numbing deskwork. In Big Apple, he fought everything from monsters to NPCs to other Adventurers in a variety of different situations, from game events like the Skin Changer Revolution to outright war with Lander states and Adventurer cities. In Elder Tales, he was never bored. And the work he did in Street Smarts to help the other residents of Big Apple, like renovation projects on the city`s multitude of empty buildings - providing more housing and room for industry – gave him greater satisfaction in making a difference than his police days ever did. It made him feel like he was home.

Thus, when he suddenly reappeared back in his apartment in uptown Brooklyn, on top of the shock at the unexpected occurrence, he was also more than a little downhearted for having left his life in Elder Tales behind so abruptly. Thankfully, it didn`t take long for him to meet other Adventurers who also lived in NYC, even reacquainting with old comrades from Street Smarts. This brought him to the swift conclusion that all of the Adventurers of Elder Tales had returned home, and the subsequent discovery that the world was very aware of it.

While a person walking down a street in fantasy garb would draw odd looks any day of the week, a person who did so fully armored and armed with shield and broadsword with long, flowing black hair with fox ears and tail would bring the attention of the entire street on one’s head, complete with smartphones snapping pictures, curious bypasses pulling on said ears and tail to see if they were real (they are) and thousands of staring eyes and questioning voices. Oh, and the police were called. This resulted in his reunion with his old precinct, his explanation of everything that had happened in Elder Tales, and his introduction of his guildmates to his police coworkers.

Over the course of that day and the next, he endured everything from near-harassment from strangers and news reporters to reacquainting himself with his old friends and family (of the latter, all that was left was his big sister, who he wasn’t close to in the first place). Then, he and all of the other Adventurers had to go through a bunch of government red tape in order to not only register their identities, both IRL and from Elder Tales, but also their new races, appearances, classes, and affiliations. Thankfully, while the government hadn’t made any final decisions regarding guilds, they hadn’t done anything to break them up either. This meant, for the time being, that Street Smarts was still in business. On top of that, he was even given his job in the NYPD back.

Just in time to be able to react to an emergency call stating that a federal warehouse had been broken into while he was on patrol.

Now, here he was, his crazy adventures now simply continuing in a new world instead of coming to an end, as he watched the truck sideswipe an SUV as it continued to plow its way through traffic.

This has gone on long enough, he concluded, as he made a final leap from the roof of a yellow taxi (ignoring the cursing cab driver) onto the rogue vehicle, landing on top with a thump.

“This is your final warning!” Mazur shouted. Pull over and put-”

RATATATATATATAT!

He was very suddenly interrupted when someone began firing a machine gun though the roof, causing him to stumble back, before getting his bearings again and dodging around on the roof to avoid the gunfire.

Playtime’s over, boys, he thought in a macho manner, getting tired of the chase.

Quickly considering his options, he ran down the truck trailer and leaped into the air, getting himself above the truck itself.

“TIGER ECHO FIST!” he exclaimed, activating the skill. With his fist enclosed in an orange glow, he brought it down square on the truck’s engine block, crumpling and crushing the entire front end of the vehicle.

Immediately after, Mazer jumped off and rolled as the formerly motorized transportation machinery quickly became dead weight on wheels, as the momentum of the trailer slammed into the truck itself, causing both parts to skid and fall sideways in a loud CRASH! As they skidded another dozen meters before coming to a screeching halt.

Getting up, Mazer’s fox ears noted that the airbags had gone off and no one was moving inside. His senses also told him that a crowd was forming up, as people were pointing at him and the truck, soaking in the spectacle they had just witnessed. Some had taken out their smartphones and were either snapping pictures or recording videos. There was a faint sound of approaching sirens heard over the traffic, but much closer, and drawing attention upward, was the sound of flapping wings. Looking up, Mazer saw a giant, black eagle, with glowing blue eyes that literally sparked with electricity, marking it to Mazer`s eyes as a thunderbird. And, unfortunately, Mazer only knew one Adventurer who rode a thunderbird.

“Don’t you think was a little bit of an overkill?” a voice called out from the bird’s back, as it landed atop the truck, showing itself to easily be as large. A figure leapt down from bird’s back to the ground. The figure showed itself to be a small, slim, teenage Elf girl, with a slight tan and short, white hair, wearing a simple, rugged blue dress underneath a cloak of red and orange feathers, and holding a tall bronze staff with a spherical, shining ruby. The beast next to her marked her to be a Summoner. Mazer groaned at the sight of her.

“Oh yeah, like you wouldn’t have made that into an even bigger circus act,” Mazur retorted. “Seriously Tiulwë, I don’t know why you joined up with Inkblade, you would’ve fit right in with Hudson & East Company.”

“Come on, copper,” Tiulwë teased. “It’s because I’m such a fabulous showman that Inkblade recruited me. It’s literally my job to make a scene, so that the other guys can work behind it. Everybody knows that.”

“Everyone from Elder Tales, you mean,” Mazer replied, taking note of the growing crowd listening in on their conversation. “Wouldn’t your guildmaster want you guys to keep a low profile now that we’ve returned to Earth?”

Tiulwë laughed heartily. “Come on, did six years in Elder Tales make you forget about the Internet? Someone posted a video on YouTube of my guildmaster delivering a very rousing speech yesterday in his hometown. He had the crowd almost literally eating out of his hand. It was just like the time Iraza first arrived in Big Apple after the riots settled down, and he set up that huge spectacle to help you guys in your ‘ahem’ Grand Alliance set up a government that actually worked.”

Mazer sighed, before replying. “Please. Stop. You should have stopped rubbing that in years ago. It’s gotten more than a little annoying.”

“Maybe for you, copper,” Tiulwë replied. “But remember, we’re in THE Big Apple now. Everything we say about the other Big Apple is news to people here. Hell, everything about Elder Tales is news to people here. And Elder Tales is changing the world as we know it.”

Mazer gritted his teeth. This was why he hated Tiulwë so much. She always presented herself as a huge showoff and a jerk in public, but she was also fiendishly clever with a sharp tongue. This made everyone underestimate her, even those who knew her, leaving them vulnerable to her manipulations. It was for this reason above all else that Inkblade welcomed her with open arms.

“Hey, doll-face, this is a crime scene! Take your oversized pigeon and haul your ass outta here!” a brash voice suddenly interrupted.

Mazer turned to his side to see his partner, Sergeant Mike McCurry, standing there. Mazer had gotten himself so wrapped up by Tiulwë’s annoying presence that he had forgotten that the police were coming.

He heard the Elf girl sigh, and turned back to her. “Alright, officer, I’m leaving.” She leaped up onto the truck, where the thunderbird had remained, alert and watching for threats, throughout the whole time they were talking. When she patted its side, it lowered itself to allow her to clamber onto its back. She looked back one more time. “Pleasure doing business with you gentlemen!” Then the bird flapped its wings, blowing everyone nearby with its wind, and took off, heading downtown.

Mazer let out a breath he just realized he’d been holding, feeling relieved. He heard his partner grumble.

“All you freaks are gonna be a pain in my ass,” McCurry said, stone-faced. “Most of you are just a bunch of losers with superpowers. And losers with more power than they’re worth are nothing but trouble. First, we got you jumping around and breaking stuff like you think you’re some kind of superhero, and then an annoying bitch just swoops down on a freaking huge bird like no one’s business and tampers with the crime scene. The captain’s gonna have a cow once he hears about his.”

Like no one’s business, huh? Mazer thought. She said ‘Pleasure doing business with you.’ What was she really doing that would compel her to strike up a random conversation the moment I stopped a runaway truck filled with-

Evidence. From a federal warehouse.

He eyed the truck with suspicion.

“We better double check with the feds that there’s nothing missing from here,” Mazur told McCurry.

“What makes you say that?”

“Just as Tiulwë said earlier. She loves to put on a show so that her guildmates in Inkblade can work behind the scenes. They wanted something from the evidence these guys stole.”

Mike was confused. “What would out-of-touch freaks want with federal evidence? Who are these Inkblade people anyway?”

Maze looked at him very pointedly. “A good analogy would be Elder Tales’ version of Big Brother.”

Mooresville, MI

Iraza POV

An email alert popped up on the computer screen in front of him. Taking a break from scanning the news outlets, he quickly browsed the message.

 

Sighing, he got up out of his chair, picked up a green tack out of the cup on his desk, walked over to the world map on the wall opposite him, and placed the tack on New York City, above a brown tack. Stepping back, he looked over the map, taking note of the multitude of tacks that were scattered all over it.

Black indicated a branch of Inkblade, and they could be found through every region of the nation. Yellow was the (rumored) presence of an Elder Tales monster, and they were few, concentrated mostly in rural and wild areas, far away from where most of the Adventurers lived. Blue was a (possible) Lander, and they were found tacked mostly to urban areas and small towns. Brown was an (alleged) Elder Tales artifact of non-Adventurer origin, found in urban and rural areas. Green placed above one was a confirmation.

Iraza returned to his desk, once again browsing the media for stories relating to the Adventurers: talks in Congress over how to handle the Adventurers’ return; violent altercations between Adventurers and “Normals” across the globe; confusion and chaos throughout the religious communities as more mainstream churches like the Catholics and Lutherans were largely welcoming their return with open arms and more fundamentalist and Evangelical churches were sharply divided, along with the Muslim world; the video game industry had also undergone an explosion in popularity; sharp discussion over the role of fiction in pop culture had skyrocketed.

Things were much easier for Iraza in Elder Tales, as smaller population numbers and densities as well as slower information speeds allowed for him to better measure people’s states of mind and possible reactions to various situations and pieces of information, although it was still very difficult. Here, people’s collective mindsets were nigh impossible to be accurately gauged by any one person, as they were simultaneously set in their ways and constantly changing on a daily basis. He, more than most, could see from the pattern of events that something big was coming, from both this world and the one the Adventurers had abruptly left. He did not know for certain what exactly would come, but he had grave, legitimate fears of what might come to pass. He needed to get ready to face the music, but he still didn’t have what he needed in order to do so.

His head fell into his hands as he bemoaned his predicament. Dammit. This is NOT how I wanted to come home. I miss being Aaron. Things were so much simpler then...


End file.
